


oresteia

by bukkunkun



Series: The Metaverse Hotel and Casino [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Bad Ending, Blackmail, Casinos, Depressing, Dubious Consent, Extortion, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Loss of Virginity, Non-Explicit Sex, Not Happy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Suicide, Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 15:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12135324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukkunkun/pseuds/bukkunkun
Summary: Ὀρέστεια (Oresteia), a trilogy of Greek tragedies, the greatest work of Aeschylus.tie-in/spin-off to Beginner's Luck.The story of how the Phantom Thieves came to be, and how Joker's influence grew.this is incredibly depressing. please read at your own risk.





	oresteia

**Author's Note:**

> again, **THIS IS INCREDIBLY DEPRESSING. PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. THIS MAY TRIGGER PEOPLE, PLEASE REFER TO THE TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS, AND PLEASE STEER CLEAR IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE IT. PLEASE, PRIORITISE YOUR OWN HEALTH AND WELLBEING. A softer, concise alternative can be found in chapter 26 of Beginner's Luck. You don't have to read this, if you can't.**
> 
> with that said, an initial disclaimer, for those who are looking for some reason to crucify me: **I do not condone the terrible behaviour of the characters depicted in this story.** This story is tragic, and is meant to invoke that sense of pain people seek in tragedies. This story is in no way written with the intention to romanticise any and all terrible behaviour depicted in this story.
> 
> With that said, you must have read up to at least [chapter 26 of Beginner's Luck](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11252271/chapters/27528027) to understand what's going on. i think.

The pursuit of beauty was both novel and trite, contrary hypocrisy that pursued mankind throughout its restless, greedy race. The definition of such a characteristic varied over time, the evolution of thought accompanied with the advancement of man, degenerating and regenerating with the sense of discontentment that was as fickle as it was unnecessary.

Ann Takamaki, in another place, another time—would have been beautiful.

Golden locks like spun gold of a prickled-fingered maiden in the West, eyes blue like the summer sky, skin pale and porcelain like a doll.

She _was_ like a doll—perfect and oh-so-sweet in every way, a lovely little trifle, in another place, another time.

Whispers gathered around her back, following after the draft of her twintails, rumours and disdain shadowing with a stubbornness that stabbed deep into her young soul at 7 years old. Where pink lips should have curled up into wide, innocent smiles, Ann’s lips remained a constant frown, the stiff, uncomfortable glower that would keep people at bay.

That way, she thought, there would have been a _real_ reason why people hated her—not just because she looked so… _different._

The years stretched on, and Ann’s world grew smaller as her soul and body grew bigger. The disdainful stares lingered, though attention had turned from unwarranted hate, to uncomfortable, lingering stares that she could not comprehend.

At 13, voice shaking and knees knobbing with the rapid growth adolescence brought with it, Ann had more problems to deal with than the stares she got, and yet the years of bearing them like the world on her back took its toll.

Each whisper, featherlight and airy, was like a boulder on her spine, long, clanking shackles binding her lips shut from talking back, and her fists at bay from lashing out. Society had rules that dictated how its people were like—and she did not— _could not_ conform. Society’s weight—the weight of living, the boulders of judgement—all it needed was time, and more time, and weight, until it eroded her thin, and she would snap cleanly in half.

It had been _so hard_. She had no friends—she moved around too much, and socialised too little. No one wanted to play with her—no one wanted to deal with her, not wanting to deal with someone who didn’t know Japanese (even though she did), or not wanting to be considered a castaway like society had considered her.

No one even called her by her _name_ , though people knew it.

Until that one odd, rainy afternoon, when a boy suddenly shouted her surname.

“Hey! Takamaki!”

Ann whirled around, her eyes widening, her braids flying around her like ribbons as she saw a rowdy-looking boy, messy-haired and waving at her excitedly.

Who’s _this_ guy? She thought exasperatedly.

“Hey! You’re nothing special! You’ll see, I can do better than you do!”

She flinched. What a _jerk._

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and ran off to the sound of their classmates laughing.

* * *

It was cruel, what he did, but that didn’t mean Ann would stop going to school altogether.

Reluctantly, she dragged her feet through the school gates, and almost immediately the boy confronted her, grinning widely and wearing a hoodie. She glowered at him, as he waved at her wildly, and when he blocked her way into their school, she stood there and scowled at him.

“What do you want?” She snapped, and the boy finally went still, still grinning as he lowered his hood, and Ann’s eyes widened.

His hair was now bleached blond, even more colourful than her own hair, and she gaped at him in shock.

“See? Now you’re not the only blond kid in school.” The boy beamed, and just like that, relief flooded Ann’s chest, some spilling from her eyes. Her lips finally curled up in a smile, and the boy chuckle softly, reaching forward to help her wipe them away. “I’m Ryuji Sakamoto. I like running and eating junk food. How about you?”

Ann laughed softly, light flooding her chest at the sudden softness of his words, as her own voice tumbled out of her mouth like clumsy dewdrops rushing away from daybreak.

“Ann Takamaki,” she replied, though he already knew that. “I like pretty dresses and eating sweets. It’s… it’s nice to meet you.”

* * *

Shiho had been her second friend, the light of her life, when she and Ryuji were separated from being classmates in high school. The timid, soft-spoken girl was the kindest person she had ever met, a stark contrast to Ryuji, who had been loud, and outspoken.

Shiho Suzui was the moon to Ryuji’s sun, and Ann was content to let her days pass by cycling around them, Ryuji bringing her day to its full brightness, Shiho bringing her back down to calm, soft happiness.

And Ann was happy.

* * *

“Hey, what’s that on your arms?” Ann asked one lazy Saturday afternoon, as she and Shiho sipped on canned juice while they watched Ryuji and his team run laps around the track. The girl jolted in her seat, and hurriedly pulled down her sleeve.

“I-it’s nothing.”

Ann frowned, and gently squeezed Shiho’s hand.

“Hey, you know you can tell me.” She said softly. “What’s wrong?”

“I-it’s just from volleyball practice, don’t worry.” Shiho said dismissively, shaking her head. “A-anyway, how’s your confession going? I-it’s almost Ryuji’s birthday, right? You’ve _got_ to tell him.”

Ann looked at her friend witheringly, and Shiho pleaded with her eyes silently for Ann to drop the subject.

Shiho was her friend. She could wait until she opened up herself.

“Well, I was thinking about saving up for a new pair of sneakers…”

* * *

“Hey, Ann, what’s up with Shiho?” Ryuji asked, the two of them walking together under a single umbrella as they approached the school front doors. Ann sighed, shaking her head as she watched the rain pour down in loud, roaring torrents. “I mean—it’s a pretty big day, and we’d planned this for weeks after the track team won gold at the Nationals.” They’d been looking forward to the celebration—Ryuji’s gold-medal finish at the track event at the Nationals earned him the attention of the Olympic team—he, Ann and Shiho had intended on celebrating that, and celebrating harder when the volleyball team won against Kosei High. “Thought she was down to play hooky with volleyball practice today. I mean, she _did_ kick major ass last weekend against Kosei…”

“I don’t know.” Ann sighed, leaning on his side as they both looked up at the sky through his clear umbrella. Something ugly settled in her gut, heavy with a weight she could only describe as _dread_ , and she could feel something was… _wrong_. Very, very wrong.

“I just—” She let out a frustrated exhale. “I don’t know. She couldn’t hang out with us yesterday, too…”

“Huh?” Ryuji suddenly stopped, and Ann looked up at him, confused. “Hey, check it out…” he pointed ahead of them, and Ann’s eyes widened to see a large crowd had gathered in front of the bulletin board near the yakisoba pan store.

“What’s… going on?” She asked weakly, though the dread began growing, seeping through her body, and Ryuji pulled her along gently as they stepped into the lobby.

“Let us through, let us through.” Ryuji drawled, pushing aside people to let Ann walk through the crowd, and when she saw the board, Ann let out a horrified gasp.

There were pictures of a faceless, naked girl— _in the Shujin uniform_ —and all of her private parts were exposed. Mercifully, none of the photographs had her face on it, somehow tactfully omitted from the lewd imagery they held. One picture had her small, pert breasts with pebbled nipples were covered in a white milkish substance. Another had a close-up of her fingers holding herself wide open, her vagina deep red and dripping, her clitoris swollen and tender. There was another photograph of her from behind, her ass raised and parted with her hands again to reveal both of her holes, both dripping with white, and Ann couldn’t bear looking at the rest of the photographs. Whimpering, tears coming to her eyes, she whirled around to bury her face in Ryuji’s chest, and she felt more than heard his own gasp of shock.

“What the eff…” He breathed, holding Ann close to himself comfortingly. “Who the—what is—”

“What’s going on here?” The crowd of students parted, and Ann felt Ryuji pull her back away from the board as well. She lifted her head, turning it to see their PE teacher—Suguru Kamoshida, retired Olympian—approach the board, another teacher—Sadayo Kawakami—at his heels. “What’s—”

The look of shock on Kawakami’s face was painfully similar to Ann’s, and her heart wrenched at the sight of it. The shock on Kamoshida’s face, on the other hand, only made her stomach turn in nervous energy.

“Oh, my god, who could have done this?” Kawakami breathed, “K-Kamoshida-san, p-please, could you—”

“Of course.” The man nodded, and quickly took the photographs down. Kawakami shook her head to clear it, and turned to the students.

“To your classrooms, all of you.” She said sternly, though she could not hide the way her voice shook in shock. “No one is allowed to leave the school until we find out who has done this.”

The murmurs spread like wildfire around them, and Ann could hear the students’ whispering.

_“Think it’s Takamaki’s pussy?”_

_“She looks like a slut, I bet she and her rat boyfriend did this for a prank.”_

_“Ew, who the hell do they think they are? This isn’t some damn hentai manga.”_

Ann’s head spun, and her hands shook as she held onto Ryuji’s arms tightly. “R-Ryuji, th-they’re…”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” Ryuji said softly, taking her hands to squeeze them. “It’s not you—you’re okay. You’re safe. I’m here.”

Ann nodded shakily, and let Ryuji help her walk onwards to the second floor and to her classroom, where he reluctantly stood at the door, watching her refuse to let his hands go.

“Ann, hey, I have to go to class, too.” He said softly, patting her hands, and she nodded, but shakily could not let go of his hands. “Ann…”

“I-I’m sorry, I just—I—” She thought of Shiho, of how she hadn’t heard from her since last night—she wasn’t answering her and Ryuji’s messages on the group chat. She hadn’t even reacted when Ryuji sent that same old meme that always made her laugh. The lack of contact, her growing worry and fear ate at her heart, and now she refused to let Ryuji go, as if fearful of losing him when she let him go, too. “P-please, I’m—I’m worried about Shiho.”

“Shiho?” Ryuji asked, but the bell rang, and he clicked his tongue. “Hey—Ann? Ann, listen to me.”

Ann shakily nodded.

“I’m gonna keep IM’ing you, okay?” He said, “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone, but I have to go now, okay? My classroom is right next to yours.”

“R-right.” She nodded shakily, and reluctantly let him go.

True to his word, Ryuji kept sending her messages when he could, sporadic yet reassuring as classes went on, and somehow Ann managed to calm down after the initial shock of the morning softened into a tolerable level of alarm. Meeting with Ryuji at lunch, Ann realised Shiho had not come to school, and her anxiety went through the roof.

“Ryuji,” she said, her voice trembling as in her hand, her chopsticks threatened to fall, “Shiho’s not here. _Shiho’s not here._ ”

* * *

Her eyes blurred with tears at the sight of the crowd that morning, and beside her his hand squeezed her shoulder tightly.

“Didn’t I tell you? If you had showed up last night, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“I-I…”

“Go to this address. There’s a man with a thick cock waiting for your ass, and he wants his money’s worth.”

“N-no, I c-can’t—”

“You can’t? You’re damaged goods, little girl— _no one_ would want you. Now go on, or should I bring in little Takamaki to help you out like the good little best friend she is?”

Her eyes widened, and her hands shook as they held on the paper like a lifeline.

“N-no, please, Kamo—”

“ _Go,_ girl. I’ve got a business to run.”

Shiho squeezed her eyes shut, and turned around on her heel to head towards the station.

Smirking to himself, Kamoshida watched her leave. “Well, her first time wasn’t _too_ bad, at least… now, on to Takamaki.” He scowled at the sight of her burying her face into another boy’s chest, but a voice snapped him out of his angry thoughts.

“What’s going on over there?” Kawakami asked, cocking her head, and Kamoshida plastered on a fake smile.

“I don’t know. Let’s go take a look.”

* * *

Shiho was in and out of school in the following days, and Ann couldn’t help notice the growing number of bruises on her pale skin. She frowned deeply at every attempt Shiho made to avoid the topic altogether, and one afternoon, she had had enough.

She _needed_ to know what was wrong with the moon of her life.

Ryuji in tow, she followed Shiho in secret after school, following her through the main building, and then the practice building of Shujin Academy, until she saw Shiho enter the faculty room—Kamoshida’s office.

The two blondes shared nervous looks.

“I don’t like where this is going.” Ryuji said, but Ann shook her head.

“We _have_ to face this.” She said, and strode confidently towards the room. She pressed an ear to the door, and Ryuji did the same.

“ _Here’s the next address for the next customer. And don’t keep him waiting—you know what happened the last time. I lost thousands of yen because of you._ ”

Shiho’s tiny voice replied, “ _I’m sorry, Kamoshida-sensei._ ”

“ _God, you were such a slut the first time I fucked you and now you’re not even a decent prostitute. That’s a lot of money you’re going to have to make up for me._ ”

“ _I-I…_ ”

Ann’s eyes widened. Ryuji gaped back at her, and something _snapped_ inside her.

She threw the door open, startling the two of them inside the room.

“How _dare_ you?” She bellowed, striding inside the room, pulling Shiho back away from the man as she surged forward, grabbing Kamoshida by the collar of his shirt. “How _dare_ you, you disgusting piece of _shit?_ ”

Ryuji pulled Shiho back away from the two of them gently, setting her down on a seat, and stood next to Ann to tower over the man, rage in his eyes as well.

“You’re effin’ disgusting,” He snarled, “You’re the asshole who put up those pictures, aren’t you?” He jabbed a finger into his face, “You’d better fess up! I’m calling the goddamned cops on you!”

“No, you won’t.” The man smirked, and Ryuji’s eyes widened as he pushed him backwards, throwing him to the ground.

“Ryuji—” Ann began, when much to their shock, Kamoshida picked up a dumbbell, and brought it down on the blond.

Shiho’s scream tore through the room, and that was enough for Ann to faint.

* * *

“We can’t pay for this.” Ann’s voice shook, her body trembling as she squeezed Ryuji’s hand. Beside her, Shiho stood, shame on her face, unable to meet Ryuji’s gaze out of guilt. “Ryuji, I… we don’t have the money for this.”

“Can’t tell the parents, either. I mean, I’m lucky mom just isn’t around at home yet, but…” Ryuji winced, looking down at the cast encasing his leg. “Shit, damn, I—I’m so sorry, Ann, Shiho—I’m an effin’ _dude_ , I’m supposed to be protecting _you_ …”

“I-it’s not your fault, Ryuji,” Shiho replied softly, quietly, and Ann looked up at her, tears in her eyes. “It’s mine… I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done all that—I brought you two into this.”

“Shiho, it’s because we love you,” Ann said past her tears, and the girl gaped at her, eyes wide and wet with her own flooding emotions. “We’re your friends, damn it,” her voice began to waver, and Shiho bent down to pull her into a hug. Ann buried her face into the crook of her neck, and sniffled as her tears fell onto Shiho’s shoulder. “We’re here for you. We want to protect you.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji agreed from where he lay on the hospital bed. “I don’t care if I can’t run anymore—I’d rather make sure you two are safe.”

“Ryuji…” Shiho’s lip quivered. “I-I’m so, so sorry. Your dream… the Olympics…”

“It’s not your fault.” The blond smiled at her, though it didn’t quite light up his eyes. “I—I’ll find some way back up again. I’ll take a loan for this, or something. I’ll go get a job right after high school so I can pay it up, and set you free, Shiho.”

“No, please…” the girl sniffled, “D-don’t give up your dream for me.”

“Me too.” Ann said, pulling away from Shiho to squeeze her shoulders. “I’ll go work part-time during high school to help pay for this.”

She took Shiho’s hand and squeezed it. “We can do this.”

* * *

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a recommendation.”

Ann’s blood went cold, and her gut dropped. “H-huh? Wh-what do you mean? I-I need that for a job!”

The teacher sighed, and looked at her pityingly. “I’m sorry, Takamaki, but we’ve got our hands tied. Looks like Kamoshida wants an inquiry into you and your boyfriend—apparently the two of you threatened him? Until you get that sorted out, I can’t give you a rec for a part-time job.”

“N-no…” her shoulders slumped. “I-I… that’s not…”

“Sorry, rules are rules.” The man sighed, “I mean, I think it’s pretty lucky he wasn’t demanding for you two to be expelled or something. Means he still believes in you, right?”

Ann looked at the window out of the faculty office, and saw Kamoshida leering at her.

“No, sensei.” She replied, snatching her papers away from him, startling him. “It means he still wants something out of us.”

* * *

“Have you ever heard of The Metaverse Hotel?” Shiho asked quietly, gingerly watching as Ryuji let Ann scribble little doodles on the cast on his leg. The two blondes stopped and looked at her, and she looked off to the side, squirming nervously. “I'm sorry… I… that's where Kamoshida was making me go to.”

Ann’s eyes narrowed into angry, vicious slits. Ryuji’s hand balled into a fist.

“To… to make… money.” Shiho finished lamely.

Realisation sank in, and Ann’s eyes widened. “W-wait, Shiho—you can't—”

“It's my fault we all ended up like this.” She said weakly. “I-I—” she crumbled, and Ann rushed to hug her. “I have to… I have to go back. I have to make money for you two.”

“Shiho…” Ann deflated. “You…”

“I'm going to talk to him.” She said, “I can't keep relying on you two forever.”

* * *

Of course she should have expected it wouldn't be enough—standing next to Shiho, hands in each other's, Ann glowered at the smirking man in the rolling chair.

“Maybe, if it was the two of you, though…” he smirked, and her eyes widened. “Maybe it can be barely enough. Too bad your shitty boyfriend can't even make money for himself, huh?”

“Shut the hell up.” Ann snapped.

“Uh-uh. Speak out like that or go against me, and it's not just Sakamoto’s ass getting expelled.” The man grinned wider, licking his lips lecherously. “I have pictures of Suzui, and this time _with her face._ If you don't come home with me for your first time, Takamaki, your little _friend_ will get the shaming of her life.”

Ann’s body froze up. Fear locked her into place, and Shiho let out a horrified gasp.

“N-no, don't do this—”

“You don't get to make pleas here, whore.” Kamoshida snapped at her. “Lemme pop that little cherry of yours, Takamaki, and Sakamoto can stay in school. Whore yourself out, and you've got a chance for the cash you all needed.”

Shiho looked at Ann, tears in her eyes.

“A-Ann, I'm so… I'm so—”

“Shiho, it's okay.” She said softly, kissing her cheek, before turning to glare at Kamoshida. “Give me two days.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It's not a guarantee I won't bite your grass blade of a dick off when I see it.” She snarled, and stormed out of the room, pulling Shiho with her.

The two girls headed up to the roof, and Shiho flinched when Ann punched the wall hard enough for her knuckles to bleed.

“Ann—”

“I hate him. I hate him so god damned much.” She snarled, angry tears rolling down her face. “What a piece of—what a piece of _shit_ —”

“I'm so sorry.” Shiho shakily whispered, and pulled her into a hug. “I-I never wanted this—I just—I didn't—I didn't want this to happen.”

“It's not your fault,” Ann replied, hugging her back tightly. “I-it's that bastard’s fault—I swear to _god,_ I'm gonna kill him—”

“I'm sorry I… I ruined your dream.” Shiho said. “You'd… you'd wanted to just… grow up and marry the person of your dreams and be happy, and I—”

“Shiho, please. Stop blaming yourself.” Ann whispered, kissing her hair. “I—I'll be fine. It's just a dream, right? Reality doesn't always make dreams happen.”

“B-but Ann—”

“I'll talk to Ryuji about it.” She said shakily. “I'll be okay. We'll all save each other, okay?”

Shiho pulled away from her, and she cupped her face in her hands.

“Please, Shiho. Promise me you'll make it through this with us.”

“I-I promise.”

* * *

“You're sure about this?” Ryuji asked, his hands shaking as they came to a rest on Ann’s bare shoulders, and only conviction shone in her eyes, despite the tears welling up in them.

“I love you, Ryuji. I wanted to end up your wife, in the end.”

“Yeah, but this—” Ryuji gestured at their mutual nakedness, save for the cast still around Ryuji’s leg. “ _This,_ Ann. You said—your wedding night, you wanted to have your first time with your husband.”

“W-well,” she forced a smile on her lips, her cheeks pink. “I'm having it with you, aren't I?”

Ryuji gaped at her.

“What's the difference between me giving it to you a little early and giving it to you later?”

He squeezed her hands, sighing deeply.

“I…” he shook his head. “I'm so sorry it came down to this.”

“I know,” Ann said quietly. “I'm sorry too.”

He gave her a sad, tired smile, and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her lips as his hands started reaching lower.

* * *

“I’m Panther,” the masked blonde smiled, wrapping her arm around the other girl’s waist, pressing their cheeks together. She saw the way the man’s eyes dilated at the sight of them, and she pressed on. “This is my bestie Phoenix. You wanna play?”

The Metaverse was dark at times, shadows casting stark darkness against the gilded, glittering gold of its walls, the chandeliers, the polished marble flooring. Everywhere was the epitome of luxury—calico marble, golden furnishings, lush, rich leather upholstery. Like the home of gods, The Metaverse glittered like it was bathed in the warm sunlight.

Panther had seen it all, eyes wide with wonder, taking it all in, and thought: _this must be what hell looks like._

“Gimme a gander how good you are on the wallet, sexy.” The man drawled, and his breath smelled of alcohol. Panther giggled as he pulled the both of them closer, even squealing a little when he reached down the front of her dress to pull out the tag. “How about the other one?”

“Oh, she’s the same as me.” Panther replied dismissively, “So, wanna get a good night with some good girls?”

The man’s grin widened, and he got up, pulling them both to his side. “C’mon, ladies. Show me how Metaverse whores give a good night to a tired gentleman like me.”

* * *

“ _Hey, Skull?_ ”

“‘Sup, An—uh, Panther?”

The girl on the other side of the in-house phone line sighed. “ _Um, we need a medic._ ”

“Oh, shit, wait a sec.” Ryuji pushed himself off the wall, taking his finger off his earpiece, and winced as he felt his sore leg groan in protest. It hadn’t completely healed yet—but the cast was gone, and the moment it was, he applied for work at The Metaverse, too. Luckily he was part of security, and the man taking care of the list—a grumpy man in his late thirties, Munehisa Iwai, gave him a single look, and asked no questions about his age.

Ryuji headed into the staff corridors, twisting this way and that until he made it to a room with a simple plywood door. There was a simple sign out front: _MEDIC_ , it read, and Ryuji didn’t bother excusing himself as he opened the door.

A short-haired woman turned from where she was reading something on a clipboard to frown at him.

“Medic needed in room 329.” He said, and the woman sighed.

“Is it Priestess again?” She asked, but she was getting up, following after Ryuji out the door.

“Oh, right.” He pressed the intercom button on his earpiece again. “Panther, is Priestess okay?”

“ _Oh, um… it’s not for her._ ” She paused, and meekly continued, “ _It's for me._ ”

Ryuji’s world came crashing down on him, and horror dawned in his gut like a splash of cold water. “Shit, Ann—”

“Skull.” The medic deadpanned, and Ryuji flinched. He wasn't used to the strange way The Metaverse ran itself—he was still too used to saying his girlfriend's name. The worry was enough to make him forget the rules that came with The Metaverse—Ann had been hurt.

“ _I-I'm okay. We’re just kinda worried there might be a fracture somewhere._ ”

Somewhere in the backdrop, Ryuji could hear Shiho crying. His gut wrenched for her—of the three of them, Shiho had the weakest constitution—he was deathly worried about her just as much as he worried about Ann.

“Okay, me and Mercy are making our way up there.” Ryuji cast a pointed look at Mercy, who sighed exasperatedly.

“You're lucky I can run in platform heels.” Mercy deadpanned, and followed after him into the elevator.

* * *

It was a BDSM play scene gone wrong—Ann and Shiho had to play the Sub for their guest, who currently was sitting in the corner of the room, frowning petulantly, as if Ann’s injury was a minor inconvenience, and not of a major threat.

“What happened?” Mercy’s mask wasn't as kind as her code name suggested—a black plague doctor’s mask hid most of her face from view, save for her black-painted lips. Gently the doctor arranged Ann to lie down on the bed, while on the other side of the room, Ryuji and Shiho stood together, watching her work on Ann.

“He choked me,” she explained, and Ryuji’s gut turned at the sound of her voice. Over the phone it didn't sound _too_ bad, but now, hearing her live, she sounded hoarse, almost pained, and Shiho flinched. “He's supposed to—and Priestess was gonna help, or watch out for anything, but his grip was too sharp and it started _really_ hurting.”

“Mind if I touch your neck?” Mercy asked, and Ann hummed her consent. Carefully the doctor felt around her throat with two fingers, and the guest huffed in annoyance.

“She's overreacting.” He snapped, “C’mon, I paid for a night here.”

“If you read the contract you signed when you entered The Metaverse, _sir_ ,” Mercy drawled, “You'd discover you would be held liable for any property damage.” She frowned deeply when she felt something on Ann’s neck, and the blonde winced.

“And that includes the prostitutes I'm taking care of.”

The three teens flinched.

 _Property damage,_ Mercy had said. That was right—here in The Metaverse, Ann and Shiho were nothing more than products the owner and their pimp—Asmodeus—toted around and sold for profit.

“Fuck, really?” The man snapped. “Don't you know who I am?”

“I think, _sir_ , the whole point of having our effin’ masks means we _don't_ effin’ know who the shit you are.” Ryuji snapped, and Shiho and Ann gaped at him.

“Watch your goddamn mouth, you little brat.” The man shot back at him.

“Quit it it, the both of you.” Mercy snapped, “I think I know what's wrong here.”

“Wh-what happened to her, doctor?” Shiho asked timidly, and unlike her prickly expression at Ryuji and the guest, Mercy gave her a gentle smile.

“Your friend will be fine. No fractures, but the bruising is nasty. The cartilage at her neck may be a little disfigured, and the surrounding tissue has started swelling already. She'll need to take a rest for the night, maybe until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, thank god.” Shiho breathed, and Ryuji squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

They were all alive. They were still alright.

“Fuck.” The man snarled. “Get that bitch outta my face, then. Overpriced as hell, too. What a waste of cash.”

“Very well.” Mercy looked at Ryuji pointedly, and the blond nodded, helping Ann onto her feet. “Good evening, sir. The damages will be charged to your Metaverse account.”

“Goddamn it.” The man rolled his eyes, waving at them dismissively. “Go on, get outta here.”

Mercy left the room with an annoyed huff. Ryuji helped Ann out of the room, and Shiho made a move to follow them, when he snatched her by her hair.

“Nuh-uh. Not you, you little bitch. I _paid_ for this night—I'm not about to lose my money’s worth.”

* * *

“Where's Shiho?” Ann whispered nervously, peering around at the dressing room. Beside her, Ryuji frowned deeply, getting up on tiptoes to try and see over the crowd of prostitutes, but he couldn't see her red and black mask, either. “I-I haven't heard from her since last night, after the guest. R-Ryuji—”

“I'll go look for her.” Ryuji volunteered, and hurried away from her side. Ann sighed, slouching in exhaustion, when another prostitute sat down next to her. She turned to look at him—he was admittedly a beautiful young man, with smooth, alabaster skin and soft grey eyes framed by a pied mask. His black hair curled in beautiful, elegant waves on top of his head, and Ann couldn't help but stare. His presence in the communal dressing room meant he wasn't one of the more expensive prostitutes, but he was so… _beautiful_. He was dressed in something as simple as the other cheap prostitutes—like Shiho and herself wore, but his beauty still managed to shine through.

A diamond in the rough, she thought. He cleared his throat, and her eyes widened when she saw him holding a small, pink plastic object.

He was looking intently at her, his eyes holding a sense of nervous urgency, and she couldn't help but feel that something was… _wrong._

It felt like that fateful day when Kamoshida posted Shiho’s lewd photographs, and Ann wanted to throw up.

“U-um,” she began, but the boy—he couldn't be much older than her—showed her the thing he was holding.

In his hand was a used pregnancy test—and it turned out positive.

Ann’s eyes widened. “Wh-what's this?” She gaped at it, her hands shaking as the air around her head felt way too thin, the sensation of it inflating with horror a cacophonous roar of displeasure and fear in her mind. The way he looked at her told her she already knew who owned it, but by _god_ the horror made her deny it all.

“I'm so sorry, I—” he hesitated, “I couldn't stop her. I don't know where she is.”

“No.” Ann said quietly, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no…”

“Please, Panther,” he said urgently, “You have to tell me where she is—I can still save her—”

“No, that's not hers!” Ann screamed, pushing the boy back, and he fell off his seat, landing on the floor back-first. He winced, but quickly got up again, shaking his head.

“Panther-san,” he pressed, “We’re running out of time. My partner needs to know—”

“Shiho isn't pregnant!” She yelled, earning them the stares of all the other prostitutes in the dressing room.

She couldn’t be—she and Ann took their pills together, at the same time. There should be no way she could get pregnant—she—

Ann froze. Recently, Shiho had deposited all of her Metaverse earnings—what little of it—into Ann’s account. At the time, it didn’t feel strange—Shiho regularly did that to keep their funds together, but recently, the amount had been… bigger than usual.

Almost as if she had stopped buying her pills.

Horror dawned on her.

Shiho had been so affectionate, so sweet and open about her love for both her and Ryuji, always talking about their future together—

She hadn’t noticed.

She’d failed Shiho.

“Oh, my _god_ —”

The boy pressed a hand to her mouth, but she tore her face away from him. She grabbed his wrist, rage bubbling inside her—

And suddenly a scream rang out in the cold air outside of the dressing room. Ann’s head shot up, and the boy got onto his feet.

“Damn, no…!” He bolted out of the dressing room, and Ann jolted.

“H-hey! Wait!” She yelled, and ran after him outside into the casino proper to see that the crystal chandelier had descended to the main hall of the casino, too early for its usual time. Ann’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of a body hanging from it by its neck, its noose makeshift from deep red bedding. She froze up in shock, her heart completely stopping in realisation and horror. A piece of paper fell from the corpse’s hand, fluttering to the floor as a tall gentleman in a black suit with gilded, golden accents. His golden calf mask glimmered darkly in the macabre light of the chandelier as he turned to look at them, holding up the piece of paper.

The boy grabbed Ann’s wrist, pulling her forward with him, and Ann stumbled forward, unable to do anything but numbly stare at the corpse hanging from the chandelier above their heads.

It couldn’t be—no, _it couldn’t be._

Ann’s eyes welled with tears, and unbeknownst to her, Ryuji was already making his way through the crowd, similar horror and shock in his eyes, tears already clouding his vision.

“Panther!” He screamed, but it only faded into the backdrop of her mind as Ann struggled to face reality.

“No…” She breathed, letting go of the boy’s hand to cover her mouth. “N-no… _no._ ”

“Panther!” Ryuji’s voice was right in her ear now, and she could only let him pull her into a hug. “Panther, oh my god, _Ann_.” He whispered, kissing her temple. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, oh my _god_ , Shi—”

“Shiho,” Ann’s eyes welled with tears, and she buried her face into Ryuji’s chest. She couldn’t bear to hear her name, she couldn’t bear to even say it, and yet the grief, and the need to accept reality made the name roll over her lips. “ _Shiho._ Oh my _god_.”

“Satanael,” the boy began, and the masked man lowered his head.

“I am sorry, mon cheri, I did all I could.” He looked at Ann, and held out the paper for her to take. “This, I think, is for you to read, mademoiselle Panther.”

Ann gaped at him, and he pressed the paper into her hand. She couldn’t bring herself to even look at it, but she saw what was written right on front.

_I’m so sorry, I couldn’t wait like you and Ryuji could._

She broke down into tears, and Ryuji pulled her into a hug. The both of them sank down to the ground, and the boy looked down at them pityingly. Satanael put a hand on his shoulder.

“Joker—”

“I’m going to help them too, Satanael.” He said, and the man smiled fondly.

“I know.” He said, and squeezed Joker’s shoulder. “But for now, allow them to grieve.”

* * *

“I’ll avenge her,” Joker said, eyes burning embers, and Ann looked back into his eyes, her grief now transformed into anger that could almost rival his own. “I’ll dismantle this entire casino, but I’m going to need your help.”

“You don’t have to ask, man.” Ryuji snarled, his hand in Ann’s tight and shaking. Ann squeezed his hand tightly back, and she sat up straight.

“Even if you didn’t ask, Joker, I’d burn this whole damn place down myself.” She said, voice brittle over her boiling anger, and Joker smiled slowly.

“Help me bring everyone to justice.” He said, “We won’t rest until every single one of these sinners are tried in the court of law, and when we finally set ourselves free—”

“We’ll set fire to this hellhole.” Ryuji said, taking his mask off. “My name is Ryuji Sakamoto.”

Ann nodded, and took her own mask off. “And I’m Ann Takamaki.”

Joker studied them both, and his eyes widened. “You guys… are younger than I thought you would be.”

Ann laughed bitterly. “We all start young.”

Joker’s surprise melted into a wry smile. “I suppose.” He took his mask off, and Ann and Ryuji could finally see his face, set with determination and simmering anger. “I’m Akira Kurusu.”

“Alright, Akira.” Ryuji grinned, “Pleasure to meet you.”

Akira smirked. “Same here.”

“So, what are we gonna do now?” Ann asked, “We can’t just start poking into everyone’s business all of a sudden. We don’t have the position for that.”

“Not _yet_.” Akira’s eyes twinkled like that of a trickster’s, and Ann’s eyes widened.

This boy—was more than a diamond in the rough.

He was determined, dead-set and _dangerous._

A shaky smile made its way onto Ann’s lips, and when she looked, Ryuji was smirking, as well.

“I’m going to be the Crown Jewel of The Metaverse someday.” Akira declared boldly, “And I’m bringing you up there with me, Ann.” He held his hand out for her to take.

“You got it.” She nodded, and she took his hand. “Make me beautiful, Akira.”

Akira chuckled darkly.

“I don’t have to,” he said, looking at her.

The innocence was gone from her ice-blue eyes. Simmering, determined anger replaced the joy only found in the idyll days of childhood, and the soft baby blue was the reflection of a double-edge sword of hardened steel. Ann was beautiful, he thought—she was not a doll, she was not a precious little piece of fragile porcelain, not anymore.

Her nails were sharpened into the razor-sharp claws of her namesake. Her wit was faster than her oppressors, her anger burned brighter than the chandeliers that hung high above them—that hung her best friend, the moon of her life.

Her moon gone, all that was left was for the sun to burn, exploding into a supernova of rage, and Akira shook his head.

“You’re already perfectly beautiful, the way you are.”

**Author's Note:**

> to anyone contemplating suicide, or experiencing severe depression: please know that at the end of a storm is a rainbow. please, things will get better--it may look bad now, but that is your depression talking. please, seek help, please, please, please, find a reason to live, take your medicines, tell a loved one you love them every day. Suicide is never the answer, please always, always keep fighting. There will always be someone who loves you.


End file.
